He Doesn't Know
by mondlering moofoot
Summary: He doesn't know how crazy about him she is. She hopes. [one-shot]


_Another fic that I'm once again not sure about. It's set sometime in their seventh year. I'll leave therevealing of the couple 'till the end, eh? - Although, I guess it's pretty obvious, huh?_

**_Spoilers:_ None.  
_Setting:_ In their seventh year.  
_Assumptions:_ That Harry defeated Voldemort in his sixth year and _survived_. And also, there's an annual talent contest at Hogwarts that came about on the celebratory night of the Voldy defeat.  
_Shipping:_ undisclosed -** _ooh, that sounds pretty official! Maybe I should do that more often - (gets punched in the face) or rather not. bleh._  
**_Thank-You's:_ To my buddies at school who thought it was a great idea to write this fic, and to the teacher who told me I could write and write well. D hugs on and all**

* * *

He was the one who encouraged her to sing. He found the talent show notice on the notice-board, right next to a poster ofHarry after the defeat of Voldemort. 

She was definitely not eager about it. She was known more for reading and studying, not for singing and dancing!

He, however, pointed out that no one would have believed the sense of humour she had had, either. And yet she had it and could make him laugh just as much as Ron could.

She finally nodded and caved in. Her first try at the school talent concert was greeted with amazing response. Everyone believed that her voice was without a doubt more flawless than her Charms essays and that's saying something.

The second time the contest came around, he immediately told her to join. Everyone agreed with him. So she caved in again and locked her up in her room for an hour each night, putting a silence charm around it. And she practiced.

She was planning on singing a song by the Beatles or perhaps someone else - but she then she realised that no one could put into words what she was feeling - not even the Beatles.

She had put the performance on hold temporarily because of the problem with the song, but when he asked her how it was going, she turned back to it again.

There was a pen in her hand, and a piece of paper in front of her. She was supposed to be writing an essay, but when her pen met the paper, words flowed out like a waterfall.

She blushed when she finished and read it. But as she still had homework to do, she put it aside - thoughts about it, as well.

She didn't have the heart to throw it away. So she kept it.

She came across it again during class, and she thrust it into her robe pocket before anyone could notice, but he did. He took it from her and read it quickly. He smiled. "This is great," he told her as they left the class. "You should sing it!"

Her face went red as she took the paper from him. "Maybe I will."

He nodded eagerly. "Good! - Who sang it, by the way?"

So he didn't know it was her own song - good. She just shrugged.

She put a tune to the song as soon as she could, fueled by the enthusiasm he showed her. The guitar lessons she had taken as a child became useful. And finally, one week before the actual contest, she was done.

Of course, she performed it and got first prize by a unianimous vote - although Draco's now one of her closest friends, his karate moves are getting old- and he was the first to hug and congratulate her.

She has a few more songs locked up away in the drawer, some tuneless, others with notes scribbled all over them. She looks back to them from time to time, when she's in the mood, to give music to the ones she feels like doing.

She sometimes pretends they're together. She clutches his hand when they're going to classes, or leans into him for pictures, or simply hugs him tightly more often than before. But inside, she can't help thinking, when she does this - what would it be like to kiss him?

Those are, without a doubt, her best performances.

He knows that the songs are dedicated to him, but he doesn't know that she's the one who wrote them. He doesn't know how crazy about him she is.

And he never will.

She hopes.

* * *

He grins as he watches her from the other end of the common room, her hand moving quickly over a piece of paper and her eyebrows knit together in concentration. 

He fingers the key to her drawer in his pocket. He often wonders how she'll react when she discovers that he knows.

"Harry! Come 'ere! Everyone knows you're the best at DADA!" she yells.

He gets up from his chair next to Ron and his grin widens, to the observations of knowing Gryffindors present in the common room. "Coming, 'Mione!"

Maybe he'll find out today.

* * *

_Well, that was it! How bad was it? I know I say that too much, but seriously..._

_I'd appreciate it if you could review. Just one small, tiny review. Maybe a coupla lines would be enough. Just some fuel to encourage me to write. You know? _

_Bah. Maybe I should bring out the cookie recipe again..._

_Flames appreciated as well, just so you know. Reviews mean good **and** bad stuff, and if I'm bad, I gotta know. ;)_


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